


together

by writerlily



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 17:29:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7324243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerlily/pseuds/writerlily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>jon and sansa on the road together, driving away from the monsters in their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	together

Sansa sometimes forgets what it feels like to have a family. Her memories of her parents, her siblings, their warm home, slip through her fingers, until the actual feeling of family almost leaves her entirely. It isn’t until she wakes up in the passenger seat of their stolen car, that she starts to remember what it feels like. For Jon is still here, she has to remind herself because she sometimes forgets, and he has not left her. He didn't have to rescue her at the Vale when she had nothing but the clothes on her back. Hell, he could have left her behind at any point in their time together on the road. But he hasn’t. And she likes to think that it counts for something. 

There’s a bag of food next to her and she sits up from her slumped position, eyes scanning the area until she sees him. It’s not as if it’s difficult to find him. Even in a crowded room, she can always spot him. There’s something about him that sets him apart from everyone else. Robb had the same effect, but Jon’s allure is less outgoing and cheerful and more introverted. She steps out the car and gently shuts the door behind her.

She studies him from her position-- the way his shoulders are relaxed as he stares out into the horizon. His dirty white shirt is clinging to the chiseled panels of his back and the wind whipping through the air makes his hair fly in every which way direction. As if sensing her gaze on him, he slightly turns his head to the side. She can make out the slope of his sharp nose, the little pout of his pink lips, and his long chin. It’s the face that she sees everyday, before she sleeps and when she wakes up. She never would have thought that she’d be so happy to see Jon every day. His messy hair actually makes him look younger, relaxed, and a little vulnerable. It breaks her heart for some reason and she looks off into the horizon as well, suddenly feeling a lot older than she really is. 

What life has she been robbed of? Without a doubt she would have gone to college, worked at her father’s company, met a nice man, and had two point five children with a house in the suburbs. It was all that she wanted when she was growing up. Hell, she even thought she still wanted all of that when Jon had rescued her. She had been stuck in a limbo trying to make sense of everything that happened, and desperately clinging onto the hope that this was all just a dream, and she would wake up back in her own bed. 

She wished that everything that had happened the past few years was a dream. She wished that the deaths of her family members didn’t happen and that the Lannisters and Boltons and Freys were all dead instead. She shakes her head to rid herself of those thoughts, because as much as she wishes for those things to be true, none of that will ever happen. She’s stuck in this reality of being one of the last surviving members of the Stark family, on the run with Jon Snow, of all people.

She was still pretty young when Jon came to live with her family, so they weren't very close growing up. When his mother died, she had left Jon in the custody of her childhood friend Ned. He had welcomed the boy into the family with open arms, as did everyone else, and Jon quickly became best friends with Robb and Arya. They were always doing something together-- playing soccer behind Winterfell Manor in the wide fields, or playing video games, and other thing that Sansa didn't particularly care for much. They were on opposite ends of the spectrum. That's why it's so ironic to her that they ended up here together. Every shitty thing that has happened in their lives came down to the two of them in a stolen car and on the run from their enemies.

She realizes that she probably wouldn’t have found the inner strength that has kept her going all this time, if not for the truly horrible things she endured. She probably would have always been the stupid girl who dreamed of true love and fairy tales. And... and she wouldn’t be here with Jon. She flicks a glance to him again with something weighing heavily on her mind. 

She reaches back into the car and slides the plastic bag around her wrist. If she hasn’t eaten yet, then he hasn’t as well. Jon has an annoying habit of only eating whenever she does, which she suspects he does just to make sure she’s taking care of herself. 

The plastic bag is loud and Jon fully turns towards her now, watching her with those dark beady eyes of his. She lowers herself to the grass underneath their feet and sits down Indian style with the food in her lap. There’s two black plastic bowls, still warm from whenever he bought them and she hands him one as he makes himself comfortable next to her. She hands him a fork and some napkins before she opens up her own food. Chicken and rice with a side of some green vegetables and Sansa sends Jon a thankful look.

It’s rare of them to ever have full, proper meals like this. Money between them is scarce, so they’re usually buying junk foods and protein bars when they can. Jon is good at making money doing random things in the towns that they stop in. The other day he won a large sum of money in a poker game against some burly looking men at a suspicious bar. Sansa is glad he didn’t listen to her protests for them to leave because now she gets to eat something that doesn’t taste like heart disease and cardboard.

The days that they have close to nothing in their pockets makes Sansa wonder about how long they can keep this up. Living out of stolen vehicles and off of gas station food is no way to live. Every time she voices her concerns to Jon, however, he tells her he knows what he’s doing. That he’s taking them somewhere. Sansa hopes that ‘somewhere’ has a shower and a large bed with fluffy pillows.

He finishes his food faster than her because she still believes in manners and politeness so her bites are relatively smaller than his, but he’s content to sit besides her. Jon shifts his body over to pull out a neatly folded map from his back pocket. He unfolds it and holds the map between his hands as his dark brows furrow in slight confusion for a moment. Jon doesn’t look up from the map as she leans over to try to see what he’s looking at. There’s a small area circled in red marker.

“Is that where we’re headed?” She stirs around the remaining pieces of food in her bowl. Jon is silent as he folds the map back into small squares then tucks it in the back of his faded black jeans.

He runs a hand through his dark hair. It’s gotten longer and she can say the same about her own hair. It’s practically reaching past her hips now and she toys with a strand as Jon stands up and stretches. His shirt rides up, revealing a stretch of pale skin. Sansa looks away.

“That’s right,” he says as he gathers their trash and she puts the lid back over her leftover food. With the way things have been, they can’t afford to be wasting food, so she makes a mental note to finish it later on in the car. 

He reaches his hands out for her to take and her smaller hands easily slip into his. His hands have always been rougher, whether it be from the sports he played and the cars he worked on while growing up, or just the simple fact that Jon has put his hands to work all his life. She frowns a little as she looks at her own hands. They’re softer, practically unscathed in any way. The only thing is that her nails, that used to always be manicured, are now bare of any nail polish and growing a bit longer than Sansa would like.

She was a spoiled girl, she knows that. She was the first born daughter of Ned and Catelyn Stark, and she remained the only girl in the family for quite some time before Arya was born. She had everyone wrapped around her finger, always saying yes to whatever she asked of. It’s not something that she had ever really been ashamed of, but being next to Jon makes her feel a little embarrassed by the fact. 

They walk back to the car and Jon moves to open the passenger door for her. She shuffles in and places her food on the floor between her feet as he shuts the door, resting his forearms on the open window. From this close she can see the layer of grime covering his face and the tired little bags underneath his eyes. 

“Listen…” He says slowly, hesitantly, nervously. “I know it seems like I’m leading us to nothing, but there’s a place for us.”

For us.

Sansa tries to hide how pleased she is by those two simple words and manages to give him a small smile. “I trust you,” she says. If he thinks that she doubts him, then he’s mistaken. Jon is all that she has left now and she finds that it makes it easier for her to believe in him.

He stares at her for a beat too long and she’s suddenly thankful for the heat, so she has something else to blame on the way her cheeks warm. He taps his hand against the door and nods. Then they’re off again, leaving nothing but a trail of dust behind them that settles on their tire tracks, effectively covering their trail. Sansa rests her head out of the window, closes her eyes, and lets the wind caress her face and flow through her hair. 

She just wants to be wherever Jon is taking them to already. They still have so many enemies out there who would stop at nothing to truly end the Stark family. They have to be careful all the time. Sansa is always on her guard and she swears she was never this paranoid before. They have to cover their trail of crumbs because there’s far too many dangerous people that want to follow.

The sun is beginning to set when Jon stops the car and Sansa blinks away the sleep from her eyes. He’ll usually do this at night time. He’ll stop the car somewhere in an abandoned field, so that they’re hidden by any passing cars and he’ll be able to get some shut eye. Sansa doesn’t look at him as she steps out of the car and stretches her legs. She walks further away from the car and stands by a small lonely boulder. She sits down on it and stares at the setting sun, not once removing her eyes from it when Jon sits down next to her. She hears the familiar sound of a lighter clicking and soon enough a cloud of cigarette smoke is being carried away by the wind.

He tries offering it to her but she shakes her head. “I could never get the hang of those things,” she says.

He shrugs and places it back in the corner of his mouth. “Suit yourself.”

It’s eerily dark out here now. Without any city lights, everything is covered in pale moonlight, but it makes it easier to see the stars scattered against the sky. She never would have been able to see the stars like this elsewhere in the city and some part of her is thankful that Jon brought her out here.

“You’ve been sitting out here for a while,” he remarks as he scratches at his chin. 

“I wanted to watch the sunset,” she tells him as she wraps her arms around her knees. “Sometimes I forget to appreciate those kinds of things.”

He gives her a teasing smile. “They happen everyday.”

She nudges his shoulder with hers and rolls her eyes. “I mean, I forget to appreciate that the sun setting is a reminder that we made it through another day.”

That shuts him up again and she briefly glances at him. He looks pensive as he stars at the sky and she looks away from him, telling herself not to be such a creep. Sansa stands up and extends a hand out for him, even though he can get himself off of the rock by himself. Neither of them let go of each other as they walk back to the car, and neither of them comment on the fact. He simply opens her door for her again and closes it once she’s settled back in her seat. She doesn’t close her eyes until Jon is in the driver’s seat next to her, the sound of his breathing filling the car.

Another day passes in a similar fashion and Sansa can feel herself getting antsy. She’s just about to ask Jon to pull over so she can do some jumping jacks or something, when she sees the look on his face. It’s… hope. She follows his line of vision and all that she can see is a dark spec in the distance, but now Jon is punching the gas, and soon enough they’re in front a large wrought iron gate. Jon jumps out of the car to unlock the gate, then he’s leaning forward, pushing the gates open using his strong arms.

She pointedly looks away from him when he gets back in the car. They go up a long dirt driveway that’s lined with beds of flowers that have grown wild. It doesn’t look as if anyone maintains the property, or has even tried to in years. At the top of the driveway is an actual house and Jon cuts the engine and is sprinting towards the house before she can even unbuckle her seat belt. 

It’s a cute little Victorian styled house set in the middle of thick trees. There’s a dried up water fountain sitting in the middle of the yard, where little blue birds are perched. Sansa gets out of the car and follows Jon to where the front doors are wide open. Up close the house isn’t anything special. It’s two stories with chipped paint and a broken window on the second level. It looks like it could blow over if the wind really wanted it to. She hears Jon moving around upstairs as she studies the inside of the house, which isn’t that much better. There’s dust coating every surface. Sansa wanders around the place. It’s mostly bare downstairs, besides a wooden dining table and a couple dirty looking couches surrounding a rug.

Jon walks in on her swiping a finger along a dusty window pane. He looks happy and being here in this house is the reason. She raises a brow at him and shows him her dirty finger. “What is this place?”

He looks down at his shoes in such an endearingly nervous way. He shoves his hands deep in his pockets and walks over to where she’s standing, until she can practically feel his breath on her. “It’s a safe house,” he says. “My friend Tormund gave me the map way back when to this place in case anything too crazy went down.”

“It’s… quaint,” she struggles to find the words because she honestly can’t find the charm in it that has Jon so obviously excited. 

He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. “It could be home,” he says quietly and that makes her pause completely, the pieces coming together.

“I’m tired of driving,” the corners of his lips quirk upwards and Sansa sees a rare kind of hopefulness mapping its way across his face. “I think I’ve driven enough to last a couple lifetimes.”

She turns away from him to look at the house in front of her and she suddenly feels like crying, which is just so silly but she just can’t help it. Jon must notice the look on her face because he stumbles over his words. “We don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to,” he says quickly and that’s when the tears really begin to roll down her face. “We can go anywhere you want, Sansa.”

Stupid man, she thinks, as she turns back towards him and wraps her arms around his sturdy body. Jon was the one to throw logic out of the window all those months ago and save her, Jon was the one to take her far away from everything and to somewhere new. He was the one giving her somewhere she could call home and she doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to understand how much this means to her.

“Thank you,” she says against his neck and she laughs a little when she feels his body relax with relief. His arms come around her body, resting above her hips as she clings to him. She can’t remember the last time she was hugged, especially by someone from her family and she presses her nose against him.

“I almost thought we’d have to spend tonight in the car,” he says with a twinge of humor to his voice. “I think I’ve developed the neck problems of an old man.”

She smiles at his attempt at humor and wipes away her tears as she pulls away from him. “You are an old man,” she laughs, thinking that she must look like absolute shit. She’s never been a pretty crier. Her face always turns red and blotchy and there’s probably snot somewhere on her, but she can’t seem to care because she’s here, alive, with Jon. 

There’s still about a million and one things that they have to sort through. Like their supplies and food, their water and electricity, but it’s the two of them together figuring it out. Over time, it starts to come together. They use the last of their money to buy the things that they need around the house. Jon figures out the plumbing and electricity so that they’re not living like they’re in the freaking medieval times. Sansa takes care of making sure the rooms they sleep in don’t have bugs and rats that might crawl in their mouths as they sleep.

They try to cut themselves off from the rest of their world, but on one of their rare grocery trips, there’s news being broadcasted on the radio at the front of the store. Roose and Ramsay Bolton were found dead in their own homes and the same can be said for Walder Frey and his disgusting sons. Sansa almost drops the jar of grape jelly in her hands, but Jon is there to take it from her and bring her back to reality. It might have been a little morbid to celebrate their deaths with beers and lemon cakes later that night, but Sansa and Jon couldn’t find it in themselves to care. Jon decides that it's still too dangerous for them to return to their home and Sansa has to agree. There's still the lingering threat of the Lannisters.

Sansa likes to think of the deaths of the Freys and Boltons as another thing working itself out in life. She remembers her old nan telling her that life usually comes around full circle in the end and she prays that the Lannisters meet their end soon.


End file.
